


Rendezvous

by unrealityfreak



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Implied Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-27
Updated: 2013-03-27
Packaged: 2017-12-06 16:17:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unrealityfreak/pseuds/unrealityfreak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave bumps into his favourite sister.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rendezvous

**Author's Note:**

> This is more of a warm-up than anything. Just an excuse to write these two together, because I love them. It's taken me a while to post it, because I didn't think it was worth posting when I wrote it, but I've posted worse so I figured "why not?"

He finds her in the lobby of the hotel after the show, curled up in a plush chair and reading a thick book by the light of a particularly ornate lamp. The place is fancy as hell; she fits right in. He doesn't.

She looks up when he plops down on the floor in front of her, elbows on his knees. "What's a classy dame like you doing up this late?"

Instead of answering aloud, she holds up the book, cover toward him, and it just barely obscures his view of the grin he can see pinching her eyes. It's something intellectual or horrific or both, he's sure. He doesn't bother to read the title, though, instead watching as she carefully unfolds, setting her feet in the space between his, book coming to rest on one exposed knee. He stares openly at her legs until she says, "Did you just finish a show?"

"You mean the one that just blew the roof off this place? I'm surprised you could stand to read out here."

"I haven't been here long. I even managed to miss the exodus of fans and admirers who no doubt came through here after the sixth encore."

"Hey, I don’t do that many encores."

A smile. "Where have you been since then, Dave? Entertaining backstage?"

"Would it make you jealous if I said yes?"

No smile this time, only a shift of weight onto one hip, legs crossing one over the other and he can _almost_ see up her dress. "Of course not."

"Aw. Not even a little?" He leans forward, rests his chin on her knee, sliding his hands along the fabric of the chair on either side of her.

"Not the slightest. Dave, what do you think you're doing?"

"Flirting. Why, can't a guy woo a lady he fancies anymore?"

"I'm not just a lady to you."

"That's true. But it's also true that you're incredibly beautiful. There's something about you, some kind of x-factor, that makes you _very_ hard not to think about all hours of the day. Especially the small ones."

She shows no outward signs of discomfort. She doesn't have to. Not around him.

"Dave." A warning.

"Rose." A sigh. He moves his hands inward, against her thighs. Turns to rest his cheek against her knee. "Something I've learned in the years since the game is that giving a shit is a bad idea. All it does is invite paradox space to fuck you up. So," he says, voice going quiet, "I stopped giving a shit."

"Did you really just paraphrase your new single in order to 'woo' me?"

He snickers, genuinely amused. "You've been keeping tabs on me!"

Gently, she pushes him away with one foot. "You're my brother. Why wouldn't I listen to your releases?"

"I bet you look up videos of the underground shows, too. You totally do, don't you?"

She doesn't answer, but the smile is back. He keeps the distance she's put between them, but reaches out to nudge the tip of her shoe with his own. "What are you doing here, anyway? Touring for some book I missed?"

"Do you mean to imply you don't keep as close a watch on me as I do on you? And you claim to have such interest in me."

"I do. Just not in the crap you write."

Her lips purse, but she's straightening her posture, leaning forward, standing up, still between his legs. "It's been nice to see you, Dave. We should catch up sometime."

He curls his legs inward, wrapping them around her ankles like a child. "Why not now? I'll buy you a latte." Her mouth pulls up, just slightly. "Milkshake?" She attempts to step out of the circle of his legs. "Vodka shots?" He slides one hand up her calf, cradles the back of her knee.

"You're laying it on thick tonight," she murmurs, and he knows he's gotten under her skin. She pulls her leg from his grip and takes one, two, three steps away from him, putting a nice, safe distance between them. Her knuckles are starting to whiten around the spine of her book.

"I have a good feeling about tonight." He beams up at her, still cross-legged on the floor in front of the chair she's abandoned. It only takes a few seconds of silent hesitation on her part before she exhales, too shallow to be a sigh but still conveying defeat. His smile widens.

"Would you like to join me in my room for a drink, Dave?" Like it's a formal invitation.

He lights up, and she barely has time to turn and run for the elevators before he's on his feet and playfully chasing after her.


End file.
